Chaos erupts the moment we move in. Zach fires a warning shot, scattering the beach guards. Marta and I advance along the sand, guns raised. Elena stays behind a rock, clinging to cover.
Bullets thud into the sand. A figure in black gear yells, "They're here! Secure the boat!" My stomach lurches—definitely an organized crew, possibly Vasquez's. I return fire, terror blasting through my veins.
Elena crouches behind me, eyes wide. I bark for her to stay back, but she refuses to leave my side. Another hail of bullets rips into the surf, water spraying. My heart roars. This is war, a twisted finale to our desperate flight.
We push forward, ignoring the fear. Zach's cover fire keeps some of them pinned. Marta hurls a smoke grenade. Gray plumes envelop the shoreline, giving us a chance. Elena and I sprint to the boat, hearts slamming in sync, uncertain if we'll survive.